Wake: to keep watch or vigil
by Becks Rylynn
Summary: Another prequel to Incoming Call. 'One year. That's how long she's been gone....'


_AN: I think this one is most definitely my favourite of the __**Incoming Call **__prequels because it's basically just a Sam/Dean brotherly bonding story with lots of Dean whumpage._

**Title:**_** Wake: to keep watch or vigil  
**_**Summary:** Prequel to _Incoming Call._ One year. That's how long she's been gone....  
**Pairing:** Past Dean/Ruby, Sam/Jo in passing.  
**Genre:** Angst/Hurt/Comfort  
**Rating: **T for some mature content.  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters.

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Written by Becks Rylynn

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_**Wake: to keep watch or vigil**_

One year.

That's how long she's been gone.

It's Halloween today.

It doesn't seem like it's been a year. It seems like only yesterday she was here, smiling, kissing him, just...._here._ Now she's not, now he's all alone. All alone and now Halloween feels like a curse.

He spends the day staring at the empty bed and remembering the last night they spent together. He spends the day remembering _that night_ and thinking of all the ways he could have saved her. He spends the day staring at everything and nothing because everything he owns, everything he has, seems to remind him of her. He spends the day drowning in his own misery, and just when he's become convinced he's dying, just when he's sure there's no weapon in the world sharp enough to dull his pain, no alcohol strong enough to take it all away, just when he's sure he's not going to make it through another night....

....Sam comes along.

--

Dean sighs tiredly when he sees his brother on the other side of the door. ''What're you doin' here, Sammy?''

Sam shrugs and smiles and he can tell his brother's trying too hard. ''Got nothin' better to do.''

The elder Winchester studies his brother carefully, because he knows that's a lie. Sam could never lie to Dean before, and he can't now. Finally, he shakes his head and turns away, waving his hand dismissively. ''Get outta here.''

''_Not_ going to happen.'' Sam steps inside and shuts the door.

''Go home, Sam. You should be with your family.'' Dean sits down at the counter in the kitchen and picks up a glass filled with amber liquid.

Sam frowns at the comment and moves closer to his brother, like he's ready to catch him if he falls. ''You_ are _my family, Dean. There's no place else I'd rather be. Not tonight.'' Cautiously, he sits down next to his brother, searching for any kind of reaction.

After a moment that feels too long, a bitter smirk pulls at Dean's lips and he turns somewhat devastated green eyes to caring chocolate ones. ''You think I'm going to try and off myself, don't you?''

Pause.

Breath.

Pause.

Finally....

Sigh.

''Gimme one of those.''

Without making a comment, Dean pours alcohol into a glass and hands it to Sam. The younger Winchester downs it in one gulp; the elder Winchester raises an eyebrow. ''Do you really think I'm that far gone, Sam?'' His voice is quiet and soft, peculiar for Dean Winchester.

''I don't want to, Dean, I really don't, but.....well...sometimes people do some stupid shit when they're grieving.''

Dean pours Sam another glass, but decides he has no patience for pouring his own drink, because he takes a swig straight from the bottle. ''I'm not gonna slit my wrists, Sammy. I ain't gonna hang myself from the rafters, or take enough pills to take me out of this world. Not even gonna drink myself to death. Don't get me wrong, I've thought about it. Sometimes I think dying would be easier than living. But,'' he pauses and stares down into his glass. ''She'd have a fit if I tried something like that.''

His brother smiles softly. ''Yeah, she would.''

A second goes by.

A minute goes by.

And then another.

And another.

Minutes pass by in the silence between two brothers, and after what seems like forever, Sam speaks up again. ''Dean, what are you doing all alone in the dark? Don't you think...Don't you think you should be with your family today? Why don't you come home with me? I'm sure Jenna would love to see you.''

Dean's eyes don't move from the wall across from him. ''Got things to do.''

''What things?''

He smirks, empty and hollow. ''You wouldn't believe me if I told you.''

Tired of his brother not looking at him, Sam reaches out and grabs the glass, forcing Dean to look him in the eyes. ''Try me.''

And Dean breaks. ''They say...'' He swallows hard and painfully and blinks when the hurting behind his eyes starts again. ''...They say Halloween is the one day of the year when the dead...walk among us.''

Frightening realization dawns on Sam and he gapes at his brother for a few minutes, disbelievingly, before he speaks. ''You're waiting for her.'' It's a statement, not a question.

His brother nods. ''I am.''

''Dean, how much have you had to drink?''

Dean scoffs and snatches the glass from Sam's hand. ''Not nearly enough.'' It's a long time before either one of the brothers speak up. ''Well, go ahead,'' Dean drawls, ''tell me I'm crazy. C'mon, Sam, just get it over with and then get the hell out.''

Sam regains his composure and shakes his head firmly. ''I'm not going anywhere.''

''Please, little brother,'' Dean's voice is suddenly thick with emotion as he puts a hand to his head, feeling a headache coming on. ''I...I can't pretend to be alright for you much longer.''

Sam knows Dean isn't as good at pretending as he thinks he is. The younger Winchester sets his jaw, and speaks with conviction and determination. ''I am _not_ leaving you, big brother.'' He's not ready to lose Dean yet. Especially not to himself. He puts a hand on his older brother's shoulder and holds on tight, like he can give him all the strength he needs. ''I'll wait with you.''

Eternity passes, and then Dean looks at Sam, his eyes glistening, on the verge of coming apart. ''Okay.''

--

''Coulda saved her, Sammy.''

Sam looks up and turns around to face his brother. It's the first time Dean's spoken in nearly an hour and his voice is hoarse and it falters because of disuse. Sam frowns and looks at Dean as if he's studying him. ''What?''

''That night,'' Dean's not looking at his brother; he barely even knows he's there. No, he's looking somewhere else, a familiar place in his memory. ''When...When Pierce had her, there was a moment, just one little moment, where his grip on her loosened. She could've gotten away easily, I could've reached out and pulled her away, I knew...I _knew_ I could save her if I tried. But I didn't. Neither of us wanted to risk it.'' He snaps back to reality and locks eyes with his brother. ''_I_ didn't want to risk it.'' Time goes by, a little too much for Dean, and he lets out a nervous sigh, looking away from Sam and running a shaking hand through his hair. ''I-I've never told anyone that.''

Sam waits for a moment and tries to grasp at the words that he knows are there....._somewhere._ ''Dean, you...you couldn't have saved her. You tried. You tried to talk Pierce down, you tried to keep him from...from...killing her. But the truth is, even if you had gotten her away from him, she probably would have...died anyways. You know as well as I do that when death wants you, there is nowhere to hide. You can run as fast as you can, you can run forever, but in the end, there is no hiding.''

Dean shrugs and puts his mask up. ''Maybe, maybe not. I guess we'll never know, will we?''

--

''You never liked her, did you?''

Sam snorts, because the question seems so utterly ridiculous. ''I liked her before you did, Dean.''

''Okay, fine, but you never really accepted our relationship, did you?''

Sam frowns and tries to remember, tries to remember the exact moment he accepted the relationship so he can prove Dean wrong, but finds his memory blank. Had he ever really accepted that she was it for Dean? That she was _the one _for him? No, he doesn't think so. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd always thought she was just another one of Dean's girls. He was wrong. He knows that now. ''Well,'' Sam laughs, somewhat uneasily. ''I probably could have lived without walking in on you two...numerous times.''

''Well, you should learn to knock.''

''You should learn to have sex in a bed like normal people.''

''That's boring.''

For a second, Dean's eyes cloud over with warmth and humor and it's just like old times. Like Sam has his brother back. But the nice moment is gone almost before it's begun and Dean's still the shattered man he's become. Sam sighs and bites down on his lip until he tastes the unmistakable flavor of coppery, metallic blood. ''I liked that you were happy, Dean, and she was....she was a great woman...'' Sam swallows his own emotions. ''I guess I just never really..._understood_..._._your relationship. Don't get me wrong, I know you loved her and I know she loved you, but sometimes...I mean, sometimes it seemed like you didn't _like_ each other.''

''Yeah, well,'' Dean smiles and for the first time in a really long time, it's only _somewhat_ crushed and destroyed. ''Sometimes we didn't, but...like you said....I loved her, and she loved me, and that was...'' He breaks of and clears his throat, swallowing all the emotions that are rising up, threatening to take him under and drown him. ''....That was enough for us.''

''That's a good answer.''

--

The night passes slowly, in grief and despair for Dean. He feels the night drag on and the agonizing pain in his heart gets so bad at times, that he struggles just to breathe. Once, he thinks he sees her outside the window, looking up at him in that white dress she was buried in, twice, he thinks he feels her, like she's right there sitting next to him, and four times he swears he hears her soft melodic voice.

And then, sometime after midnight.....

....Someone knocks on the door.

At the sound of the sharp rap, both Dean and Sam freeze, their bodies going rigid. Eventually, Sam looks at Dean, almost as if he's expecting orders, but the elder Winchester is unmoving, totally still, almost as if he's completely shut down, paralyzed in both hope and fear. This time it's up to Sam to take the lead. Showing more courage and bravery then he actually has, Sam crosses the room, throws open the door, and sees a familiar blonde on the other side.

''Sam,'' she speaks, gently, looking none too happy. ''Are you ever coming home?''

Sam closes his eyes, lets out a breath and swallows hard, because he really had thought it was going to be the walking corpse of the woman Dean loved on the other side of the door. ''Jo.''

''Goddamn it,'' Dean mutters gruffly, staggering to his feet. Sam can't decide if it's disappointment or relief that he hears in his brother's voice.

Jo frowns and shifts her sleeping daughter, raising her eyebrows at the expressions on the faces of her husband and brother-in-law. ''Did I...interrupt something?''

Sam opens his mouth to speak, but Dean beats him to it. ''No. Nothing. Sam, you should go home, get your girls to bed.'' Dean hopes Sam won't notice how off his voice sounds.

''But - ''

Dean shakes his head and holds up a hand. ''I'm fine, Sammy, I'm just going to go to bed. _Really_. Scout's honor.''

''You were never a scout.''

''Whatever.''

Sam searches his brother's eyes for any sign that he's lying, and gets something he never expected from behind those green eyes. The two brothers share a secret conversation just by sharing a look. Sam knows it's time to go. Dean has something he needs to do. ''Okay. But will you - ''

''I'll call you if I need you.''

''And you'll - ''

''Go straight to bed and not kill myself? Yes.''

''And you won't - ''

''Drink myself into a stupor, trip, fall, crack my head open and die? No.''

Sam narrows his eyes slightly and sends a sharp look at Jo when she barely manages to suppress a giggle at the look on her husband's face. ''The whole finishing my sentence thing? Not funny.''

''Look, Sammy, I appreciate everything you've done for me, but - '' _Sometimes a man needs to wallow in peace, _he thinks. '' - I can take it from here,'' he says.

Sam sends his brother a look that clearly says _I hope you know what you're doing_ and then pulls his brother in for a quick embrace, well aware of how the older man's body seems to go rigid. He pretends not to notice. ''Dean, promise me you'll - ''

''Take care of myself? I will, I promise.'' Then, Dean smirks and holds his hands up in surrender. ''Sorry. Last one.''

When Sam's sure it's safe to leave Dean alone, when he's sure his brother won't do anything stupid, he ushers his wife out and works very hard not to notice the familiar scent of sulfur in the hallway.

As soon as they're gone, Dean lets the door shut and leans heavily against the door, sighing. Exactly two minutes go by, and then he has to squeeze his eyes shut and ignore the way his throat aches. ''I know you're there, baby. I can feel you.''

No answer.

He turns, so his forehead is resting against the cool door. When he raises a hand to the door, a shudder goes through him because he knows she's there. He _knows_ it. ''You're not going to say anything, are you?'' He rasps out.

Still nothing.

He can feel her start to slip away, and feels tears gathering in his eyes, that old familiar evil burning behind green irises. He can't hold onto her much longer, he's trying. He's strong, but the pulling, the feeling that she has to go is stronger. ''I love you,'' he manages to choke out before his throat closes up and his legs give out, sending him sliding to the floor. He feels her do the same, but she's gone before she hits the ground, taking his heart with her. It's silent for a moment, the only sound a far away clock ticking. And then he hears it.

It's just a murmur, a whisper really, barely there, barely audible. But it's something.

_''I love you too.''_

And it's enough to get him through this night.

**end**


End file.
